


your plans and those slow hands

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: For years, it’s gone like this.“Black coffee,” he orders.“We don’t serve Montagues,” she says.“The customer is always right,” he responds.Until one day:“Just pretend to be my date,” he says.“Just for the holidays,” she says.





	your plans and those slow hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plinys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/gifts).



> Inspired by the prompt "just pretend to be my date" and a post tumblr that said: "ok but modern fake dating au where everyone knows rosaline and benvolio are faking it but lets them do it anyway, and makes bets on when they’ll catch feelings"
> 
> to Jess, because she keeps writing for this ship and i'm so happy.

 

For years, it’s gone like this.

“Black coffee,” he orders.

“We don’t serve Montagues,” she says.

“The customer is always right,” he responds.

Rosaline glares, Benvolio smirks, and he leaves five minutes later drinking a black coffee with five sugars, _Montague_ written on the cup.

 

And then one day:

“Black coffee,” he orders.

“You’re gonna get diabetes,” she says.

He smirks. “I didn’t realize you cared.”

His cup reads _asshole_ very clearly. There’s already sugar in his coffee.

 

Until one day:

“I need a shot of espresso,” he orders.

Rosaline raises an eyebrow.

“My Uncle’s in town,” he says.

“I didn’t ask,” she responds.

“He hates me.”

“That’s too bad.”

There’s latte waiting for him, _Benvolio_ scrawled across the cup, a perfectly swirled foam smiley-face under the cover.

 

And then one day:

“You’re single, right?”

She doesn’t answer him.

“Just pretend to be my date,” he says.

“Just for the holidays,” she says.

Benvolio grins. Rosaline makes him a black coffee with five sugars.

 

And then, the next day:

“You’re dating?”

“Just for the holidays.”

Mercutio laughs, Romeo frowns, and Juliet shrugs. “At least my parents will have someone else to disapprove of at dinner.”

Benvolio chokes on nothing and Rosaline pats his back.

 

(Romeo gives them one week. Juliet thinks it won’t happen until Valentine’s Day. Livia thinks mistletoe and Christmas dinner will be all it takes. Escalus thinks it’ll take almost a year, picking an exact date - _November 11th_ \- and Stella laughs and laughs and laughs. She refuses to place a bet on principle.

Isabella slams down a twenty. “New Year’s Eve.”

Mercutio counts the pot and smirks. “New Year’s.”)

 

At his house:

“And what does a Capulet woman do in her free time?”

“I’m a barista.” Rosaline sips red wine carefully. “I work two jobs.”

Benvolio did not know this.

“Is this yours?” she asks. The drawings are old, from his childhood days, almost faded, but the dark charcoal lines are still visible on the yellowing papers.

He nods.

She smiles.

His heart skips a beat.

 

At her house:

“I’m surprised a Montague such as yourself would ever want to associate with our Rosaline.”

Rosaline keeps her lips thin; Benvolio smiles easily. “She’s quite a catch.” He meets her eyes across the table. “I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Her heart skips a beat.

Livia grins widely. “Isn’t Benvolio such a gentlemen, Rosaline? So witty and handsome.”

“So witty,” she says. The honesty in her voice scares her. “So handsome.”

When he walks her home to her apartment, his fingers brush against hers. She pulls away.

“Thank you for pretending to be my date,” he says.

“Any time,” she says.

It’s scary how much she means it.

 

And then, Christmas Eve:

“Dance with me.”

She does. He glides across the floor, occasionally stepping on her toes, and she laughs and laughs and laughs. He laughs too.

Together, they dance and laugh and if they hold hands even when no one is looking, neither of them say anything.

 

(Livia traps them under carefully placed mistletoe.

They both look up. Benvolio looks down first.

Her eyes are so brown.

She’s beautiful.

Rosaline smiles at him.

He kisses her.

She kisses him back.

Benvolio wonders if this is what living feels like.)

 

And then, Christmas Day:

Dinner is bad.

Romeo and Juliet fight. They break up. It’s ugly.

“You have no _dreams_ , Romeo! What do you even _want_?”

“I want _you_! But you can’t think about anyone else but yourself.”

“Well, I want you Montagues to stay the hell away from me and my family!”

“Gladly, _Capulet_.”

They catch each other’s eyes over their cousin’s yelling. Rosaline looks close to tears. He wants to wipe them away.

Benvolio takes Romeo home, and Rosaline sits with a crying Juliet.

Before going to bed, he calls her. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Sleep well, Ros.”

“You too, Ben.”

Neither do.

 

And then, Boxing Day:

“The holidays are over,” he says. She imagines disappointment in his voice.

“They are,” she says. She hopes he can’t hear the resignation in hers.

His fingers dance under her palm.

“We should go to Isabella’s New Years party together.”

“Okay.”

She wants to kiss him. She doesn’t.

 

(“Your stupid fight didn’t work,” says Mercutio. “Stop trying to rig it.”

Juliet sticks out her tongue from Romeo’s lap.)

 

But then, New Years Eve:

Rosaline doesn’t kiss him, but someone else does.

On the cheek, with a grin and a tiny giggle - and Rosaline walks over.

“Montague,” she says.

“Capulet,” he says. “What are you - ”

Rosaline kisses him.

Benvolio kisses her back.

The clock strikes midnight.

They keep kissing.

 

(Stella rolls her eyes and finds Escalus. They dance together in a dark corner.)

 

Benvolio leans her forehead against hers. Rosaline tries to catch her breath, but she’s really catching his.

“I think I love you,” she says.

“I think I love you too,” he says.

They kiss.

 

(Mercutio interrupts before she can even speak. “It’s after midnight.”

“They kissed - ”

“It’s after midnight.” Grinning, Mercutio pulls the couple apart. “So you two are dating now, right?”

Benvolio looks at Rosaline. Rosaline rolls her eyes.

“Yes. We’re dating now.”

They return to kissing and Mercutio pumps his fist in the air in triumph.

“Pay up, losers!”)

 

For days, for weeks, for months it goes like this:

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning,” she says.

He kisses her over the counter and she slides him a muffin and a black coffee with five sugars.

 

Then, one day:

“I want to mix it up,” he says.

“How so?” she asks.

Grinning, he joins her behind the counter. “I want you to order.”

“Are you - “

“Please?”

So Rosaline takes his spot in line. “Good morning - ” she pretends to look at his non-existent name-tag, “Benvolio.”

“Good morning, Rosaline. What would you like this morning?”

“Um - how about a decaf caramel latte?”

Benvolio easily copies down her order.

Rosaline waits.

And waits.

And then Benvolio slides her order to her.

She moves to try it.

_Mrs. Rosaline Montague_ is written on the cup.

She puts the cup back on the table and grabs his shirt from over the bench.

She kisses him.

He kisses her back.

“ _Yes_.”

 

(Escalus doesn’t say anything. It’s only when Stella points out the date - November 11th - that Mercutio grudgingly splits the pot with him.)

 

(And then, one day:

“I love you, Montague,” she says.

“I love you, Montague,” he says.)

 

(And for years and years and years:

“Remember that time we bet on when you and Ros would get - ”

“No one likes a sore winner, Mercutio.”)


End file.
